Chapter Text
At first it was an itch. It was a prickly sensation that caused him to rub his hand against the worn leather protecting his chest. He thought nothing of it. Once he was done exploring with Bennet, he’d venture into Wolvendom searching for wolfhook berries that would soothe the ache. At first, it seemed doable. He’d feel it every once in a while, it especially flared up when he was fighting, but that was understandable. The leather he was wearing was worn, frayed, and could probably use some mending. His skin was just becoming irritated from the unsuitable leather. At least that was the excuse he told Bennett when he asked why Razor looked so uncomfortable.
It’s a shame Bennett believed him and then they wasted money on new leather that Razor could use to stitch a new top. But even when he sewed the leather top to be slightly baggier than his old one, the itching didn’t stop. The itch that soon became an ache. And the ache became an unbearable burn that made him rub his nipples raw. The burning that he tried to ignore as he absent-mindedly rubbed his tender chest wasn’t something he could ignore. It couldn’t wait until they defeated the ruin guards and found the treasure. Heck, it couldn’t even wait until he hunted his lunch.
“I… be back in quarter moon …. I go Wolvendom,”
Bennett kept him silent as he peered at him through his worn jade eyes. Razor inspected Bennett’s deepening eye bags, the red that rimmed his eyes and the dirt that dusted his cheeks like blush.
“... I’ll be at Springvale if you ever need me,” Bennett held his gaze steadily, a storm brewing deep within his irises, threatening to follow him to the depths of hell.
“I no leave. I be back,” Even with his broken speech and inadequate responses to Bennett’s persona, they both knew it was a promise. And one that would never be broken.
“I know… get healed soon, Razor.” And so their partings always ended like this: short, simple words hanging and connecting them until they meet again. Just as Razor turned his back to Bennett, ready to sprint off into the encroaching foliage, he heard the heavy thud of Bennett’s footsteps behind him and felt the warmth of his embrace around his torso.
“Get healed and come back in one piece, idiot,”And the newly familiar touch ended, but in those brief moments of fleeting contact, Razor had ingrained every bit of Bennet into his body and mind. The scent he exubed, the ridges in his scarred skin, the exact softness of his platinum hair. All of it.
“I will.”
And with a bittersweet goodbye at the forefront of his mind, Razor set off into Wolvendom. He couldn’t expect to get there by dusk buthe could at least try. He was in desperate need of the wolfhook berries. As he pushed past the tree’s hands and delved deeper into Wolvendom using his shortcuts, the burning that blanketed his chest grew stronger. So much he had to take off his newly sewn leather jacket, stuff it in the satchel Bennet lent him, and continue running. Sure the wind on his bare chest was welcome, but the occasional prick of the branches was not. Every few minutes, a stray branch would skim his nipple and sharp pain would shock him.
He didn’t just need wolfhook berries, he needed to see the rest of his Lupical.
--
“Ah.. ah…” Tears settled into Razor’s eyes as he gingerly glazed his red, chafed nipples with wolfhook berry juice. Maybe he should wait until tomorrow to go find his pack. He couldn’t withstand any more stray branches grazing his tender nipples right now. He had to let the wolfhook berries work before he could even dream of continuing his trip.
But even then, when he thought about it, had his Lupical said anything about this? Was there a wolf skin-disease that was affecting him that he didn’t know about? Did he by any chance have the thing that Bennett called ‘cancer’? Razor took a proper look at his chest. He couldn’t help but analyze the area surrounding his glistening, cherry teats. It looked softer than it had ever been in his life. Then, curiosity grabbed him by the fangs and dragged his mind into the trenches.
As his fingers caressed the sore flesh, he couldn’t help but imagine what it would feel like to have lips encircling his nipples. Would it be appealing to Bennett? Would his scarred, flushed chest be worth his attention? As Razor worked around his chafed flesh, pleasure came in its tow. Everytime he skimmed his sensitive nipples, a shock went straight to his nether regions and left him panting. A small voice in the back of his head kept telling him he shouldn’t fantasize over his bestfriend like this. But it’s not like he could forget Bennett’s breath on skin. It’s not like he could forget the burnt, earthy undertones he always sniffed whenever he was around.
It’s not like he could forget the warmth that enveloped his heart whenever he was around him.
As his thoughts strayed further and further away from innocent dreams, Razor’s gentle touches turned into a desperate cry for physical attention. He had a hand down his pants and another probing his irritated chest. Bennett would probably laugh if he saw the state Razor was in because of him… but maybe he’d love the whines that he emitted. Maybe he’d be in awe of the tears that blurred his vision and clung to his lashes. Maybe he’d run the opposite direction in disgust, crowning Razor with the title of being the first companion that he willingly left. Maybe Razor’s fantasies are simply fantasies and nothing more.
The impact of the thought caused Razor’s hands to slowly stop their minestrations. This was all riding on the sliver of hope he had that Bennet reciprocated a fraction of love he felt. That was what it was, right? Love. Bennet had also taught him about that. After Razor’s epiphany, thoughts centered around Bennett swirled in his head as he cleaned up himself and properly applied the wolfhook berry juice. After all, he’d find his Lupical tomorrow and find out the cause of his discomfort. He need not worry about Bennett. He’d have time to think about that in the days of his return trip.
After a distinctly painful journey back home, Razor was greeted with the snide remarks of his kin.
Did he receive the final Lupical Blessing?
Has The Eldest Wolf not explained it to him yet?
The constant snickering was driving him crazy. All he wanted to know was why he’d suddenly developed this itch and a possible explanation as to why he felt like bending over for Bennett. Not whatever crude remarks were being sent his way. After seemingly forever of lying on his friend’s pelt, his pack elder called out to him.
Go meet The Eldest Wolf, little one.
A chorus of howls lead his way towards The Eldest Wolf; their voices leading him towards Andrius’ domain. Once graced with his presence, Razor knelt down.
“ Raise your head, for The Great One tells me that you have been going through the final stages of becoming a Lupical… congratulations, little one.”
Confusion settled in Razor’s bones. He thought receiving his vision was the final stage.
“I see The Great One did not tell you… to receive the complete Lupical’s Blessing, you must become one of us.”
His brain short-circuted. “I… wolf?”
Would he never be able to properly communicate with Bennett? Much less ever talk to him? Would Bennett even recognize him if he met him again in his new wolf form? Would he still be welcomed in Mondstadt? Would he be able to play with Fischl, Barbara, Aether and Lumine?
Razor’s body steeled as Andrius let out a hearty laugh. Was he laughing at his stupidity? For not knowing what he got himself into when he accepted the Lupical’s Blessing ?
“Don’t fret child. It is simply time for you to receive your secondary gender. It even seems like you’ve already started presenting,” Andrius sat down in front of him and Razor shivered as the frost he emitted dusted his body. “Congratulations, little one, you’re an omega.”
The tension that had been seeping into his muscles burst from their confines and propelled Razor into a sprint. There was no way. An omega was something the Elders talked about as an old wolves’ tale. Omegas were fragile, weak, breeding grounds for the pack’s Alpha. It was supposed to be a myth. They were supposed to mysteriously appear every hundred moons and disappear just as soon as they came -- leaving the pack with new pups. There was no way.
Razor and his troubling thoughts halted when he reached a river. The wetness that coated his cheeks and obstructed his vision stopped him from staring at his reflection. Deep he knew… he knew that it wasn’t a skin-eating wolf disease. He knew that it wasn’t ‘cancer’. He knew that it wasn’t something that could be cured with wolfhook berries. But was it so bad to hope that it was?
Razor’s eyes carefully examined his appearance. His hood was gone and his long, ashen hair covered his shoulders and chest. Would it hurt him to move the strands and bandana aside and take a glimpse at his slightly damp chest? He turned his head away from the rushing water. His fingers carefully pushed the matted locks off his chest and undid the bandana. His heartbeat reverberated in his ears and drowned him its rhythm as he slowly opened his eyes.
He had… and he was leaking …
Razor sat back down. “Why… me?”
Now he could never properly integrate into human society. His body would change and interfere with daily activities. But it’s better than being raped by a random wolf in the woods. A strangled cry took reigns of his vocal cords and shook the trees with despair.
It used to be an itch.